Someday My Prince Will Come
by merciki
Summary: Princess Katniss of Everdeen has to wed Prince Pietro of Misthaven. But she doesn't love him. She's in love with someone else. Everlark :)


My deepest thanks to xerxia31 and dandelion-sunset who did a great job at betaing this piece :)

Written for jhutchmyanchor's birthday on tumblr :)

please let me know what you think of it :)

Katniss looked at herself in the mirror, surprised by the reflection in front of her. Instead of the simple dresses she usually wore, she was in full princess attire - tiara included. The grey of her dress complimented her olive skin, the beaded appliques on the top of the bust and the bottom of the bodice making her eyes shine more than usual. The slim fit of the garment embraced her body, highlighting her thin frame, leaving her long arms free of fabric for now. But she knew she would have to cover her shoulders before leaving her bedroom. This wasn't a ball she was heading to.

Moving was difficult, as she had trouble realizing it was herself she was seeing. She could recognize her features under the carefully coiffed couron of hair on her head - so different from her signature braid - on which her tiara was resting, sparkling with dozens of diamonds.

Her princess tiara.

It was easy, usually, to forget she was Katniss of Everdeen, eldest daughter of King James and Queen Annabelle, that the weight of an entire kingdom would rest on her shoulders one day.

And that this new life was starting this precise day.

Today was the day she would meet her future husband, the one her parents had carefully chosen for her when she was a child, and to whom she had been betrothed since her third birthday.

All she knew was his name. Prince Pietro of Misthaven, a realm located north of her own kingdom. A realm with which an alliance would grant them an access to the sea.

Nobody ever asked her whether or not she would agree to that marriage. She had no choice.

Yes, she had thought of running away, of losing herself in her beloved woods - but to what end? The Guard would come looking for her and eventually find her. Wasn't her cousin, Gale - now the Head of the Royal Foot Guard - the one who taught her everything she knew about the woods?

What made her stay, though, wasn't the absolute certainty that there would be no escape in running. Rather, it was the absolute certainty that her little sister wasn't cut out to rule the kingdom one day. Primrose was everything a princess ought to be. Gracious, beautiful, kind and caring, an accomplished dancer, able to maintain discussions on boring topics for hours, blonde with blue eyes, everything Katniss was not.

But Primrose had her head full of flowers and plants, following in the Queen's footsteps, learning the best way to take care of the kingdom, studying with the most prestigious doctors of the realm, leaving all the power to her sister.

It broke Katniss's heart to think of her little sister having to step onto the Throne of Wood reluctantly. So she had caved, years and years ago, accepting her fate in silence, head held high.

As she took one last glance at herself in the mirror, she noticed her hands were shaking, her eyes were sparkling with tears, her lower lip bitten by her teeth. She jumped when there was a knock on the door.

"Princess, they are waiting for you…." Effie's voice, coming from the other side of the heavy wooden door brought Katniss back to her Princess duties - her family was waiting for her, along with Prince Pietro and all of his entourage.

She took a last breath, released her lip from her teeth before starting to move out of the room, pretending her knees weren't shaking, pretending her heart wasn't galloping. She knew by the end of the day her life would be tied to Prince Pietro. Someone she didn't know at all, someone she knew she couldn't love.

Because her heart already belonged to someone else.

Her heart belonged to someone she had never ever met, but whose words had been by her side since she was old enough to read and write. The son of a baker, her pen friend, who didn't even know she was a princess. Peeta. The man she would never be free to love.

Katniss opened the door, facing her lady in waiting. "Your Highness, you are absolutely stunning…" Effie's voice was laced with amazement, her eyes shining in the light coming through the large windows of the castle.

"Thank you, Effie." Katniss took in a deep breath. "Mother and Father are waiting for us already?"

Effie took a watch out of a small pouch at her waist, checking the time before smiling slightly.

"We are a little ahead of schedule, my lady. We have twelve minutes before you have to be in the Grand Hall, so unlike so many other times, we can walk there." She emphasized the word walk, in an umpteenth attempt to let Katniss know her wanderings in the halls weren't a secret. "Because really, you're a lady now, Your Highness, and running around the castle…. tsk tsk."

Effie's playful tone, nor the sound of her heels on the hardwood floors, could turn Katniss's attention from what was waiting for her in the Grand Hall. Her future husband, the future of two kingdoms, the possibility of peace for decades to come - all of this weighed on her shoulders as she neared the doors.

After a quick curtsy, Effie escaped, leaving Katniss alone to face her fate.

The doors opened without creaking, she noticed. The Chamberlain had finally gotten the message, she thought as she looked straight ahead, avoiding glancing at the man opening the door for her. It wasn't the time to give a show and wink at Haymitch.

"Her Royal Highness, Katniss of Everdeen!" The loud voice of the Herald echoed in the suddenly silent hall.

All the families present turned in the direction of the doors, the ones closer to it curtsying immediately as Katniss started to walk.

Slow, kick. Slow, kick, the words were on her mind, on repeat as she walked on her heels, careful not to trip on the magnificent fabric of her dress and make a fool of herself.

Her parents' thrones seemed so far away, the walk an endless wave of silk as the barons and marquises bent down as she passed. Katniss kept her eyes focused on her relatives, pretending not to notice the young women her age with too much cleavage, or too much make up, who were there to find a husband - while she wanted nothing more than to not marry.

Slow, kick. Slow, kick. The litany was on a loop in her head, the soothing rhythm of the words keeping her from running out of the too crowded room, running from all of the people looking at her, looking for failure.

Soon enough though, she reached her family, curtsying in front of her parents, before moving to her father's left, to her designed seat, noticing how Prim came from the shadows to sit on her own, next to Katniss.

"Let us welcome Prince Pietro of Misthaven and his entourage!" The loud voice of the Herald echoed in the hall.

For Katniss, time froze. She was about to see her future husband for the first time, her mind was running a mile a minute as she wondered what to expect. Would he be tall and dark like her cousin Gale? Maybe red-haired like Lord Finnick? Would he stand tall like her father or - a thought crossed her mind - the image of Peeta she had made up in her mind as she looked at the Chamberlain by the door who moved away, leaving the entrance free.

She couldn't help the motion of her hand as it flew to her mouth, her eyes taking the newcomer in. Neither too tall nor too short, a man of medium height was standing there, looking straight at her.

Blue. That's all Katniss could think of as she took him in. Blue, like the color of his eyes, clear blue like the sky above her lake, as they looked straight into hers. Blue that seemed to engulf her completely, that seemed to be looking straight into her soul, that could pass all the barriers she had erected in the blink of an eye.

He started to walk forward, never breaking the connection between their eyes, never once looking away from her, never acknowledging the other women in the room - her mother included.

"Katniss, he's… handsome!"

Prim's voice broke the spell between Katniss and Prince Pietro, and she turned to her little sister.

"What? Prim?!"

"It's true, sister dear. You're lucky your lover is that good looking!"

"He's not my lover!" No, that title belonged to someone else, someone she'd never have, Katniss thought, still looking at Prince Pietro walking towards them. "He's just my betrothed…."

"Same old, Kat. You're going to end up married to him…."

As much as she wanted to deny it, Katniss knew her sister was right. In a few months she would be married to the Prince, whose hair shone like gold, but who wasn't the kind baker boy who made her laugh.

–

They didn't know each other at all, having been thrown into a union they didn't want - or at least that Katniss didn't want - to protect the peace of their kingdoms, without anybody asking them how they felt about marrying each other. Her parents kept repeating how well their arranged wedding had worked for them, how they fell in love with each other over time - but Katniss doubted that would happen to her.

Katniss now had to face the next challenge in her life - getting to know the man she would share the burden of power with.

He was easygoing and kind, Katniss discovered, as she spent more and more time with him, getting acquainted with each other, as per their parents' requests.

They started taking walks. Around the grounds to begin with, never leaving the castle's courtyard, then walks in the garden, duly chaperoned by Effie and Pietro's lieutenant. Walks where they barely talked, as if the difference between them was too big to be bridged so easily.

Sometimes Prim would join them. Prim, who was eager to show the Prince the small place where they grew medicinal herbs, talking to him more in an hour than Katniss had in a week. Sometimes, it was only the two of them, walking slowly, with Katniss pretending to be interested in whatever flower was in front of her in order to hide her shyness. Because what exactly could she talk to Prince Pietro about? He was radiant like the sun, catching the light the same way she attracted the shadows, friendly where she was reserved.

He, of course, was the one who always tried to start conversations while she kept her head bent, looking at the flowers, nodding from time to time.

Until the day he made her laugh for the first time.

It started with a walk, like every other day. He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, like every other day, his trusty lieutenant, Thresh, by his side. He smiled as soon as he saw her, extending his hand to help her take the last steps, though she refused, as always, not yet ready for that level of intimacy.

Like every other day, they started walking around the garden, taking one of the now familiar paths, Thresh and Effie talking quietly a few yards behind them.

Unlike any other day, though, Pietro leaned towards Katniss, lowering his head close to her ear before whispering "Wouldn't you like to run away from them, Your Highness?"

Katniss stopped dead in her tracks, shocked by Pietro's words. "You can't be serious, Prince Pietro?"

"Oh, I am. I don't know about you, but I just can't spend another afternoon looking at these flowers. Have you ever been to the woods?"

Had she been? She could feel the smile starting to tug at her lips.

"You have no idea…." He couldn't know, couldn't know that under the princess dresses and tiaras was a tomboy who would rather spend her days in the woods, hunting with her bow and arrows instead of learning how to waltz or sew.

He laughed then, before turning quickly to check on their escorts.

"Do you know a place where we could go? I'm tired of the garden," he asked, a spark in his eyes.

She knew exactly where they could go - there was thicket of trees nearby where she used to hide when she was little - but would she dare to?

Something in her was so willing to go and hide away from all the decorum, the etiquette, from Effie - even if it was just for a few minutes.

She nodded.

Peeta leaned a bit closer to her but leaving enough space between them as the conventions dictated, whispering, "Then let's go…" He held his hand out to her, inviting, his eyes twinkling, bluer than the sky above.

She thought about not taking it, about continuing their walk along the neatly cut rows of boxwoods, gushing about the roses or whatever flowers were displayed in front of them, risking once more hours of boredom. Or she could take his hand, take a chance at something else - if she didn't like it, they could resume their wanderings in the gardens the day after.

She glanced over her shoulder, noticed the chaperones were both looking at the castle behind them, and took her chance.

Grabbing his hand in her left, her dress in the right, she started running through the grass, making a beeline for the trees.

Pietro followed her easily, but for his heavy footfalls that would surely get them caught if their escorts weren't too far away to hear already.

"Here," she said, dragging him behind a bush, urging him to kneel besides her. "Stay still," she whispered, "or they'll see us. You don't camouflage well…"

"What do you mean? I can hide pretty well!"

"In a blue and gold vest? In the woods? Maybe in the middle of a ball, but not here, your Highness."

"Pietro."

"Um?" Katniss asked, looking through the branches for any sign of Effie or Thresh.

"My name is Pietro," he said again, as his hand went to his hair, his fingers combing through the unruly curls. "I thought when it's, well, just the two of us… maybe we can dispense with all the formality?"

She wasn't sure she should agree - it seemed too familiar - but as Pietro started to open his mouth to talk again, Katniss spotted a bit of purple moving, a sure sign Effie was looking for them.

Out of reflex, her hand went to his mouth, preventing any sound from escaping, preventing them from being caught. She lowered her voice to a bare whisper, leaning into him to breathe in his ear. "I hope your bodyguard isn't as bad as Effie at finding people…"

She felt his lips move on her palm, warm and wet against her cold hand, making her almost shiver.  
Almost.

She turned to look at him.  
He winked.

The asshole. And yes, thank you very much, she knew that as a princess, she shouldn't even know that word existed. She guessed having a cousin in the Guard did expand her vocabulary, after all.

He lifted his hand, taking hers away from his mouth, before whispering. "I chose Thresh for a reason. He can't see a stag in front of him without his glasses."

"But he doesn't wear glasses?"

"Exactly," Pietro winked before slowly peeking above the bush. "They're not here anymore. So, where do we go now?"

"Follow me - and don't make so much noise when you walk, Your Highness."

"Pietro."

"Right. So, move, Your Highness Pietro!"

He just laughed. Laughed. As if she had said something funny.

She grabbed her dress, freeing her legs a little so she could walk more easily in the woods, and turned from His Highness, heading straight to the path she knew so well, leading her to her favorite place. Why she wanted to share it with him was beyond her - the only other person who knew about this lake was Peeta, her now-lost friend. Because, really, how could she explain to her soon-to-be husband that she was in love with someone else?

"Well, Princess, where are we heading to?"

She considered answering him, she really did. But she was pretty sure Effie was on a mission to find them, alerting the guard - their time was already limited. She couldn't afford to waste any on words.

So, she walked, not bothering to check whether he was following her or not, because honestly, she couldn't care less. Not caring either about the state of her shoes as she walked over the fallen trunks, or the green leaves on the ground.

She heard him, loud and all, as he quickly caught up to her with his big strides. Men. They were the lucky ones. No need to wear dresses, or stupid shoes with ribbons on them. Or a tiara. No, they would walk around in pants and boots, and nobody would have anything to say about it.

"But that's only because the tiara wouldn't stay on my head," she heard him say, out of nowhere.

How could he know what she was thinking? Was he one of those mind readers? Katniss turned to look at him, hoping to see his hands in the air like the magicians that once came to the castle, only to find him with a huge smile on his face. She wanted to ask how he knew about the tiara, really wanted to know, was about to ask when she realized what had happened.

"Oh, no. I said that out loud, didn't I?" She could feel the heat of a blush creeping up her cheeks, spreading across them. Until another question popped into her mind. "How do you know a tiara wouldn't stay on your head?"

"Because I've tried one."

That did it. She looked at him, all manly, all sure of himself in his royal attire, an almost cocky smile on his face before closing her eyes, imagining him in a tiara. A golden one, with sapphires as blue as the sky lying among his curls - or trying to remain on his head anyway. She could feel laughter bubbling in her throat, but there was no way she was going to let it go and give him the pleasure of seeing her laugh.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Pietro was still in front of her, smiling, as if he had been waiting for her to come out of her reverie to talk.

"The tiara was okay, though. I had much more trouble with the dress and heels. My mother still hasn't forgiven me."

That did it. The idea of Pietro, so intrinsically male, wearing a dress and heels was too much for her.  
The laugh she tried to suppress in her throat was out of her mouth before she could stop it, her hands went to her lips to try to repress it, but it was too late.

Imagining Pietro wearing a gown like one of Prim's was too much. She laughed.

He made her laugh.

–

It had been the first time he had made her laugh. But not the last, far from it.

On their daily - now more carefully monitored - walks, he talked to her a bit more. He told her stories of his brothers, Philip and Paul, how they played tricks on one another or tried to escape their nannies or guards to go to the castle's kitchen and eat their weight in cookies - which turned out to be a very bad idea as per Pietro's memories. He had sparks in his eyes when he recalled his first time on his pony, when he proudly stayed sat on the saddle while the animal kept on munching the sweet grass, refusing to move on. She found herself laughing in her presence, warming up to him.

Until one morning, she was asked to meet her father in his study.

She worried that her behaviour with Pietro was a problem, as she couldn't think of anything else she had done that could have triggered her father's wrath - well, except that day they ran away in the woods, without their chaperones, escaping the guards for a few hours. Which she had already been lectured about. Several times. By several people.

She walked slowly towards her father's study, a small room close to her parents' bedroom - her mother had a similar one on the other side - taking a deep breath in front of the ornate wooden doors she knew so well.

She nodded slightly to the guard, who opened the door after knocking on it.

"Your Majesty, Princess Katniss is here."

"Let her in!" The familiar voice of her father came from the room. With a nod to the guard, she let herself in, being careful to walk slowly into the chambers, taking time to look around. She could barely contain a groan when she noticed that her mother and Prince Pietro were already there too.

"Your Majesty," she curtsied in front of her parents, before turning to Pietro and nodding. "Your Highness."

She nodded at Pietro, who was standing in front of her parents just as she was.

"Well, well, take a seat, the both of you," King James said, holding out his hand, indicating two armchairs waiting for them. "We have to talk and make plans."

Discuss? Plans? Katniss was starting to get worried about what was going to happen next.

"You have been engaged to each other for seventeen years now," King James said.

Yup, definitely something to be worried about now.

"Pietro has been with us the last month, and my sources are telling me that you two are getting along well."

Sources. Ha. Katniss knew who the source was. Effulgia Trinket. Her lady-in-waiting, her mother's friend, a trustee employee of her father, and traitor-in-chief.

Katniss felt sick to her stomach. The knowledge that she and Pietro were to marry was one thing. Having to face the inevitability of it was something else entirely.

"Moreover, King Mark and Queen Gloria are inquiring as to the date, to make their travel arrangements. I understand they will be visiting your brother's realm soon too, Prince Pietro?"

The prince rose from his chair before he answered.

"You are right, Your Highness, my brother and Princess Elisabeth are expecting, and my parents will want to see the baby as soon as possible."

"That's understandable. So, when will your sister-in-law have her baby?"

"Doctors said it should be early September," Pietro answered, sitting when King James turned to whisper in his wife's ear.

The sound of her pulse seemed deafening to Katniss. She guessed she was getting married sooner rather than later.

To an almost complete stranger.

The room started to spin. She closed her eyes to try and block it, but the noise in her ears kept whispering "wedding, wedding," like a mantra.

"Are you alright?" Pietro's soft voice, barely a whisper, caressed her ear. She felt her hands being engulfed in larger, warmer ones, the smell of cinnamon filling her nose. She just knew it felt right - and warm.

Katniss nodded, not daring to open her eyes. Maybe if she stayed in her bubble, just there, she could pretend none of this was happening.

"Katniss, dear, do we need to fetch Doctor Heavensbee?" Her mother's voice hit her ear, concern evident in her tone. Katniss forced her eyes to open, taking in the three people around her. Her mother and father, prevented from stepping closer to her by the broad frame of Prince Pietro, who was still holding her hands.

She felt his warmth leave as soon as he withdrew his hands from hers, stepping back to allow her parents to come closer. Katniss could see her mother was ready to go to the door and ask for the Doctor to be fetched - the last thing she really wanted.

"It won't be necessary, mother… I… " She searched for the words to explain her faintness, but they just wouldn't come. How could she explain to her parents, to her fiancé that she didn't want to marry even for the sake of the kingdom, that her heart belonged to someone else?

"It must be the warmth, your Majesty. Maybe it's too hot for such the lovely flower Princess Katniss is," Peeta chimed in.

Katniss didn't know whether she should be grateful to Pietro for providing her with a perfect excuse, or for be angry with him for making her seem as fragile as a flower, a damsel in distress - something she wasn't by any means.

But the look of relief on her parents' faces convinced her to go along with Pietro's story. That was the easiest way out, no risk of a visit from the doctor, nor endless remarks on how to behave when you are a princess. (Yes, she had read the manual, thank you very much.)

"Yes, it's probably just the warmth… it's nothing, don't worry," she said, breathing deeply, trying to not freak out again at the thought of her impending marriage with the Prince sitting next to her.

"Well, then, Prince Pietro has been here for the last month. We have spoken with King Mark and Queen Gloria, and we have decided the wedding will happen in early June," King James said.

And is that convenient for you, Katniss? she thought, as she watched her parents discuss all of the plans with her fiancé, as if she wasn't even there. Was this what the marriage would be? She would be lost to their eyes, for the benefit of a man, the son they were never able to have?

She lost track of the discussion, focused on not letting her anger show on her face. Focused on not running out the door, slamming it behind her. Which was very tempting right now. Very.

The sound of her name made her come back to reality. Her parents were still focused on Pietro, having apparently not noticed her zoning out. "I'll have to discuss it with Princess Katniss, of course. Do you mind if we take a moment to talk about it?" Prince Pietro asked her parents.

King James asked the guards to escort Katniss and Pietro to the nearby library, where they could speak privately.

"Of course, the door will remain open," the king said, matter of factly.

Katniss barely repressed a snort - who did her father think she was?

Pietro gestured for her to go ahead, letting her lead the way towards the library. She walked into the familiar place, where the smell of old books and leather always reminded her of her childhood, of time spent on her father's knees, reading through every story she wanted. Those were the good old days, when Grandpa Henry was still king, before her father had to take on his duties - finding less and less time to spend with his daughters.

The old armchair attracted her, still all brown and comfortable after so many years of being sat on, still inviting. Katniss sank in, taking the ten steps needed before falling into the familiar furniture, her body finding its spot automatically.

She heard Pietro's heavy tread coming into the room, stopping a few feet away from her. She knew she had her back to him, that it wasn't polite at all, that she should turn around and acknowledge him, behave like a princess.

"So, um, Princess, do you agree?" Pietro asked, his voice nervous, far from his usual confident tone.

She turned her head slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye, noticing her was shifting on one foot, then the other, while raking his hand through his curls.

"On what exactly?" She knew she was playing dumb. That they had been talking about their upcoming nuptials for the better part of their time in her father's chambers, that they had most certainly chosen a date too.

"June 21st. For our wedding."

"Honestly? I don't care."

She heard him sigh, then move, until he was face to face with her. "I understand you don't want this wedding. Me neither. But I don't feel like we have a choice. Our fathers want our kingdoms to unite, so be it. You don't have to like it, I don't have to like it. I…." His eyes, usually so clear, were a shade darker. "I understand you don't love me. But for the sake of this marriage, can we at least try to be friends?"

"I don't know how to be friends with someone…." Katniss muttered.

"It's easy. You just do things together, and talk, Princess."

"Katniss."

"My apologies, Princess Katniss."

"No, that's not…." She started to say, feeling the blush creeping up her cheeks. " I mean, I guess you can call me Katniss when we're together. If I can still call you Pietro?"

His smile was his answer.

"So, have you two spoken?" Katniss's mother's voice cut the silence stretching between them. "Are we all agreed?"

The date. They hadn't even spoken about it. The main purpose of them speaking alone in the library was to agree on a date for their wedding. Katniss felt herself shiver at the thought of it.

Katniss's eyes went to Pietro's where she saw a question written as clearly as the chalk on a slate.

She nodded her answer as discreetly as possible.

"Yes, your Majesty. We have agreed on the date," Pietro said, never taking his eyes off Katniss's.

"Wonderful! We'll confirm the date with your family, then," Queen Annabelle said, before bending slightly, placing a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead, and heading out of the library.

"So, friends?" Pietro asked, softly.

"Friends," Katniss confirmed.

–

Katniss still had trouble realizing that only a few weeks had passed but everything had been done to prepare for the Royal Wedding. Effie had done what everyone thought was impossible to do. And Katniss was standing in the dressing room of the Saint Mary's Cathedral, almost ready to tie her life to the man waiting in the room, on the other side of the corridor.

She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing her reflection, and behind her the beautiful dress hanging from the wardrobe. Effie had freaked over the dress because it was too simple, not sequined enough, lacking the sparkle expected for a Royal Princess, the heir to the kingdom. Yet, Katniss didn't indulge her, sticking to her idea of as simple a dress as possible. She had to compromise on the train of the dress, though, longer than what she was used to. She refused all of the Crown's Jewels - too gaudy, too big, too heavy to wear, so not a thing she would want to wear on this day. She would have to wear her tiara, of course, and that's all what she was ready to put on, as she had said over and over again, to her mother, to Effie, even to her sister.

Even on that day of June, her wedding day.

The day she was going to marry Prince Pietro.

But before committing herself to this new life, there was something she had to do.

Someone she had to say goodbye to.

So, on that day, the twenty-first of June, before putting on her gown and everything else, she sat at her desk, in front of a blank page, wondering how she would be able to write the most difficult letter of her life.

She never liked saying goodbye.

She knew she had to. She was about to commit her life to another man. Peeta needed to know why she had remained silent all this time, all the months since Pietro had come to the castle. And why she would remain silent for the rest of his life. Most importantly, though, she wanted to wish him a good life - maybe one day in his future, there would be little Peetas running around his family bakery. But they would never be her children.

She gathered her strength, her courage, and wrote, never looking back over her words, knowing if she did she would end up never sending the letter.

There wasn't an envelope on the dresser, nothing. Katniss knew, though, that Effie would find one, would know where to send it. She'd always been the one in charge of her mail before, making it look like it was hers, and not the Princess's.

Katniss gathered her courage, again, before calling Effie in, her hands shaking as she gave her the letter. "You won't look at it, Effie, please?" Katniss was sure her friend could hear the plea in her voice.

"Oh, child, no. Don't worry. I've never read any of them…"

"You haven't?"

"Never. I swear. But now if you'll excuse me, I have a precious delivery to make," Effie said quietly.

But instead of going down the corridors towards her office, Effie just crossed the few feet leading towards Prince Pietro's en-suite, knocking on the door.

"Effie! What? No!" From her own chamber, Katniss almost screamed at what she was witnessing - her so-called friend giving the letter she wrote to the man she loved to her future husband!

Effie turned slightly, winking. "Don't worry, darling, I've got this covered," she said as Thresh opened the door, smiling as he recognized Effie. "Ah, Gabriel, it's been awhile but I have another one." To Katniss's horror, Effie handed him the freshly written letter.

"It's been a long time, Eff," the man said, smiling directly at Katniss above Effie's shoulder.

"What can I say? They were busy."

Effie turned towards Katniss, before walking back into the room, closing the door behind her. "I guess I have to tell you a story now," she said before taking Katniss's hand, directing her to the sofa in the middle of the room.

"Why did you give Mr. Thresh my letter for Peeta, Effie!" Katniss could feel the anger - no, the rage - coursing through her body, only fueled by Effie's gentle touches on her arm.

"Well, obviously so he could give it to Peeta, dear."

How could Thresh know Peeta? He was Katniss's best kept secret - or so she had thought until two minutes ago.

"He knows Peeta?"

"Of course."

Realization came suddenly to Katniss. Effie never used a postal service, rather someone she trusted, a messenger to send the princess's precious letter.

"When will Thresh leave, then? He's got to be back here today in time for my wedding to Prince Pietro!"

"You still don't get it, Your Highness?" Effie said. "It's so -"

A knock on the door interrupted her. Then another one. Effie rose from the couch, turned to look at Katniss with a small smile on her face.

"Well, I guess I need to open this," she said, as she walked to the door, opening it quickly to find Prince Pietro on the other side.

Katniss's hands went to her mouth, as she realized he was holding her letter.

"Can somebody explain this?" he asked, eyes ablaze, his hair completely disheveled - Katniss knew that was caused by the raking of his hands through it. Several times.

But he was holding her letter.

The one she wrote to Peeta.

The wedding would be cancelled. Her father would be furious. She would certainly be expelled to Mantova or the end of the world, and Prim would have to reign.

This was the end of her world.

"Well, well, it seems Gabriel didn't tell you anything, the little scoundrel. Come, come, Prince, I was about to tell the princess a story," Effie said, smiling.

Smiling.

Katniss rose from the sofa, her legs shaking. How could Effie smile? How could she, when she had basically ruined Katniss's life?

"Princess, will you sit down please? Prince Pietro, would you please sit too?"

Effie extended her hand towards the sofa, an invitation for Pietro to join his fiancee, his soon-to-be-bride.

As he walked towards her, Katniss saw Effie closing the door, locking it for safety.

"Well, I will start by the introductions. Katniss, meet Peeta. Peeta, meet Kathy."

Katniss couldn't believe what she had just heard. Had Effie really said Pietro was… Peeta? Her pen friend? Her best friend? The man she loved - without ever meeting him.

"What? That's not possible, Mrs. Trinket…. how do you know about Kathy?" Pietro asked.

"Well, darling, because she's standing right next to you."

"No, Effie, it's - he isn't Peeta! Peeta is the son of a baker!" Katniss chimed in, anger creeping up.

"Thresh told me to write that…." Pietro muttered.

Katniss looked from Effie to Pietro, amazed at his words. Had he said what she thought he'd just said? How could it be even possible?

"What's your favorite color?" Katniss asked Pietro, in a whisper. She was shocked at the revelation and at the realization that she could be sitting right next to the man she never thought she'd be able to meet. That she had spent the last three months getting to know him.

That she was marrying him in a few hours.

Pietro met her gaze, unfaltering.

"Orange, " he answered. "Like… "

"A sunset," she whispered, her eyes focused on his. She remembered Peeta wrote it in a letter, a few years ago.

It's only when she heard a click that she realized Effie had left the room.

/

Katniss could feel the weight of her future weighing on her shoulders.

She was behind the wooden doors of the Cathedral, next to her father, behind the rows of children carrying baskets of wildflower petals, with the murmur of the crowd waiting for the procession to arrive.

She was resisting biting her nails because she was pretty sure Effie would spot it immediately, or pacing down the room they were in, or doing something else like running away.

"Katniss…" She turned her head, surprised her usual braid didn't follow before she remembered the updo Octavia had spent so much time on - tying her hair into a loose knot, with strands of her hair escaping, the whole hairstyle looking like it could break up at any second. In fact, Octavia used so much hairspray Katniss seriously doubted it could move before the end of the week.

She was surprised too, at the tone her father used. She could be wrong, but it seemed like it was laced with sadness and sorrow.

"Dad?"

"Honey, I…" King James seemed to be at a loss for words. Katniss saw him shake his head, before his hands lifted her delicate lacy white veil. She closed her eyes as his head moved closer, until she felt his lips on her forehead, a sweet touch remembering times long gone, when he was just her Daddy, and not King James. "I'm sorry, darling that I had to put all this weight on your shoulders… the future of a kingdom lies in the ties you're about to knot. I wish there was another way to secure the peace of our land. I just hope that you won't resent me forever…"

Katniss saw her father lower his head, avoiding her gaze. She put her hand on his forearm.

"Everything will be fine, Dad. Peeta is a good man."

"Peeta?" King James asked, surprise evident on his face as he finally lifted his eyes. "You know?"

"We know," she answered. "We understand."

Katniss and Pietro had talked a lot while Effie had been out of the room, past the surprise of discovering they had actually known each other for years, past the anger at the manipulation they had been an unwilling part of, to come to an understanding.

Understanding why they had been given the chance to know each other before being wed. Understanding that they needed to get acquainted before being thrown into a marriage that was more an alliance between two kingdoms. Understanding that they still had a lot to discover about each other, even though they had started the journey already, building a strong friendship over the years.

Their time for discussion had been short though, leaving them with more questions than they had answers for.

"He told me he was Peeta - I told him I was Kathy," Katniss told her father softly. "We're friends, at least. For now."

She wasn't ready to admit she had been in love with Peeta for quite a while now - because could she be sure it would translate to Pietro ?

"Still. I'm sorry. We are sorry, your mother and I, King Mark and Queen Gloria. We only want peace, for everyone in our lands. We're sorry we couldn't find a better arrangement - but men being men… they need to see the example coming from the top… "

Katniss knew all that - understood the burden of being a leader, of having to make decisions for an entire population - it was something else to feel it, to realize this burden would someday be hers. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her father's cheek.

"We understand. We will do our duty. Peeta and I. Together."

Her thumb caught the tear that was escaping from the corner of her father's eye.

"Are we ready in here? We wouldn't want to be off schedule!" Effie's voice chimed in the room, resonating off the high ceiling.

"Are we?" King James whispered to his daughter, one last time.

She nodded, taking her place back on her father's left side, resting her hand on his forearm, holding her bouquet of flowers in the other.

"We are."

–

The hearth was warming the room, but all Katniss could feel were the drops of cold sweat falling down her back.

Behind her was the bed she would have to sleep in.

Well, where she and Peeta would have to sleep. After they had consummated their wedding.

Tradition demanded a proof the bride's virginity had been taken during the night.

Katniss wasn't sure she was ready to give in to tradition.

The hinges of the door creaked.

She closed her eyes.

"Hey…" Peeta's voice echoed in the room. "I'm… um. I'm here."

Obviously.

Katniss refrained from rolling her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to turn around and look him in the eye.

Prince Pietro. Her husband. Her Peeta.

Her brain had trouble processing all that had happened this day.

The wedding, the discovery of Pietro's identity, the truth about their friendship revealed.

Everything.

Everything was taking its toll on her, here and now, overwhelming her, the weight of what was expected from her, from them, suddenly too heavy to carry on her own shoulders.

She felt the tears falling down on her cheeks at the thought of what was expected of her, of them, here and now.

She cried for the childhood long gone, for the duties to come. For what she had never asked for, for what she thought she would never have, which was now offered.

Warm hands started massaging her shoulders, slowly, more tears falling down her cheeks, until Peeta moved in front of her, one hand coming to her head, bringing it slowly onto his shoulder.

She cried as his hands cradled her head, stroked up and down her spine, offering comfort, understanding, care.

She cried until his shirt was damp with her tears, her eyes aching, her cheeks blushing, until her eyes were dried.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I really am," Peeta whispered into her ear. She could smell the cleanliness of his shirt, and something else, something…. Cinnamon, maybe? "What can I do to help you?" he said against her ear. "Just tell me…"

"I don't know… I… I'm scared…"

"What are you scared about?"

She didn't dare look at him, hiding in the comfort of his chest, of his shirt where she could pretend this day didn't exist, where she could pretend she wasn't about to give herself to an almost stranger - someone she just discovered today was her old friend.

It was too much for one day.

Memories of the ceremony, Peeta in full uniform waiting for her and her father at the altar of the Cathedral, his blond hair shining in the light of the stained glass above them, igniting even his eyes.

Memories of his shy smile as she walked towards him, holding his hand out to take her trembling one, engulfing it in his warmth, anchoring her next to him, as if he was trying to give her some strength.

Memories of words exchanged, signatures.

Of a chaste kiss on her cheek, soft lips pressed against her skin, leaving a print there, as well as a mark on her heart.

Memories of cheers, of a long meal, of too many people, too many greetings, too many smiles, false or genuine.

Suddenly, she felt a strong arm under her knees, before she realized Peeta was scooping her, carrying her towards the bed.

The bed.

She couldn't look at it, nor think about what they should be doing in it.

She only knew she wasn't ready.

So, as soon as Peeta laid her on the quilt with the utmost care, she freed herself from his embrace, her shaking hands starting to undo the knot of her nightgown, when Peeta's fingers stopped her.

"Katniss, no."

Tears were threatening to spill out of her eyes again.

"We have to…." she said. "The sheets must bear the proof this union was consummated… "

"What if I'm not ready?" he asked softly, his hand lowering hers. "Are you ready?"

She knew she wasn't. But her duties came first.

"We have to…"

"No. It should be our choice. And I'm not ready for that. Are you?"

She wanted to scream she wasn't, that she needed time, but couldn't force herself to look at him. She knew what would happen if the marriage wasn't consummated that night.

Katniss felt his fingers, again, under her chin this time, lifting her jaw until grey eyes met blue. "Are you?"

She shook her head from left to right.

"Then tonight, we sleep," he said simply, standing and pulling back the quilt for her.

She was tempted to slip under them - but knew she needed to ask.

"What about tomorrow morning?"

"We'll figure something out. I bet we can be… creative," Peeta answered simply, still holding the quilt open for her. "I'll sleep on the floor, don't worry."

He waited until she was under the quilt, comfortably settled on the dozens of pillows before grabbing one, making himself a bed in front of the hearth.

–

Five, ten, fifteen weeks later.

Sweat was sliding down her forehead, along her cheeks, a drop almost reaching her chin when Peeta's lips closed on it.

Katniss could feel his eager hands moving along her ribcage, tracing the muscles there, as his lips continued their chasing of her sweat.

Sweat he created earlier. Sweat they made together. Hers on him; his on her.

They didn't consummate their marriage until they were both ready. After the first night in her chamber, Peeta had proven how creative he could be, making a large stain on the sheet out of berry fruit and red paint.

They wanted to get to know the other first, to discover the hidden meanings behind the words that once were etched on paper, when they had been nothing more than penfriends.

Katniss learnt he was a painter. That he liked to bake, even showing the castle's cooks a thing or two about breads. That he was kind and caring, always having a nice word for everyone, even when he didn't have time. That he was one of the few able to get a smile out of her - whether it was when escaping official obligations to wander the woods, as if he knew she needed a breather, or when he whispered silly jokes at dinners. She learnt he was a gentleman, never sharing a thing of what happened when the doors were closed.

They left for several small trips across the kingdom to meet with the people in the thirteen realms. From the mountains of the Twelfth, to the sea of Fourth, they travelled, welcomed by smiling children, enjoying the company and the opportunity of being away from the castle, from the eyes of the guards - or worst, Effie.

In Fourth, they spent a long time watching the ocean, side by side, the spectacle of the sunset on the horizon a never ending amazement. Katniss remembered how shy Peeta had been when he had taken a sketchbook out of his satchel, as if he was ashamed to want to draw.

But instead of saying anything, she leaned in, watching in amazement as his hand created a landscape with a simple pen. Here were the reflections of the first star on the calm water, there a boat sailing, its white wings lost on the colorful palette the sun was showing. She smiled when she saw two people, side by side on the beach, watching the sunshine.

Without a word, Peeta tore the page out of the sketchbook, but before Katniss could utter a single word of protest, instead of throwing the paper away he handed her the drawing.

Just like that, he extended his hand, the paper moving in the wind.

As time passed, she could see his smile falter as she made no move to take it.

But Katniss had no words to tell him how touched she was. Katniss Everdeen had never been a woman of words - she was all for actions. She leaned in, taking the offered drawing out of Peeta's hand, being once again overwhelmed by the smell coming from him, something much more addictive that the chocolate she drank every morning.

From so close she could see his eyes lighting up as he realized she was taking the drawing, then his lips started forming a smile that was her undoing.

She leaned a bit closer, wanting to feel if his lips were smooth under hers or not.

She discovered they were soft to the touch, warm, tasted like salt. She discovered she liked the feel of them under hers, that somehow, her mouth fit to his.

She learned that butterflies could live in her stomach. A complete colony of them, whose awakening was triggered by the feel of his lips on hers.

Most importantly, she discovered it felt right to kiss Peeta.

"Alright, lovebirds, I remember what it is to be newlyweds, but you have a dinner to go to, your Highnesses!" Lord Odair's voice broke them out of their little moment.

Katniss pulled back, pretty sure her face was as red as the colours of the sunshine - and at least as red as Peeta's cheeks right now. "Oh my god, Peeta, you're sunburnt!"

"Am I?" he asked, his eyes never moving from her face, amazement clearly displayed in his so-blue eyes.

"You are," she answered. She couldn't explain why she started tracing the shape of his cheeks with her fingers, tracing his freckles with the tip of her index. She heard Peeta's sharp intake of breath, before feeling his hand on hers, taking it away from his face.

"Katniss… What are we doing?" he asked under his breath.

"Getting to know each other?" she whispered, mesmerized by his long eyelashes. She'd never met a boy - a man, really - with eyelashes as long as his.

"Katniss… I–"

A cough interrupted Peeta. A steward bearing the colors of Fourth was standing behind them.

"I'm really sorry, Your Highnesses, but dinner will be served in a few hours, and Count Odair is adamant you visit with him and his wife beforehand…"

"Very well…." Peeta sighed as he rose up from the sand, holding out a hand for Katniss to take.

She considered trying to stand on her own like she always did - until she realized she wasn't alone anymore. She was married, to the only man she really wanted to marry, who made her laugh, who helped her carry the burden of royalty, who made her cheese buns in the evenings when they silently snuck into the castle's kitchens, who could draw amazing sunsets with just a paper and a pen.

Who was able to awaken butterflies in her belly with the pressing of his lips to hers too.

She took his hand.

She didn't let go until later, much later, when they had to part to get ready for the dinner.

He didn't let go either.

Day after day, they grew closer, touches lingering a little too long, eyes searching the other, small kisses to say goodbye, Peeta finally agreeing to share Katniss's bed.

Day after day, they grew more confident, more sure of themselves.

Night after night, hands found the other, at first a brush, until brushes weren't enough. Until the need became unbearable.

Until they surrendered to their eager hands, warm hands.

Until they mapped each other, reaching the sweetest of agonies.

Together.


End file.
